


Our Destiny Chooses Us

by saphire_dance



Series: Sparkbound [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, No War AU, Religious Themes, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 10:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphire_dance/pseuds/saphire_dance
Summary: Prowl has avoided having his spark read for a long time. Who would believe a mech like him could have a spark mate.Prequel toWritten On Your Spark





	Our Destiny Chooses Us

It was taking more effort than usual for Prowl not to fidget. The priest was giving the usual spark festival sermon, droning on about destiny and love. Prowl had heard it many times before, but this time he would be participating. He blamed Smokescreen really, his cousin didn’t want to face their family alone, and refused to let Prowl get out of participating. 

Usually, Prowl volunteered for extra festival shifts to get out of actually attending. He knew it disappointed his creators, but they let him get away with it. Smokescreen had not been so easy to dissuade. His job assisting the enforcers meant he had access to Prowl’s coworkers, and Prowl soon found there were no opportunities to volunteer. 

Perhaps he could have still found a way out, but Smokescreen was more wily than Prowl had been prepared for. Who else would have told little Bluestreak that they were both participating? Prowl could live with disappointing the rest of his family, but not Bluestreak. Especially not when he made those cyberpup eyes.

The mechling stood right behind Prowl as their family came to their turn with the Spark Oracle. Prowl could feel Bluestreak’s field vibrating with excitement. Prowl kept his own field close to his armor, no need to let the others feel his fear and dread. Certainly, he would be one of the few unlucky mechs with no name written on their spark. He knew all too well how poorly he did with relationships, the rumors that were whispered around work that he was barely more than a sparked drone for the tac-net.

Prowl knelt in front of the priest, bowing his head as the sacred oil was smeared across his chevron. He did not pray often, but in this moment he found himself begging Primus to please, please let there be someone out there for him. The Spark Oracle approached, their ceremonial tabard making a soothing sound where it swept against the floor of the temple. Prowl could barely hear the ritual words over the surge of his spark, but he managed to open his chestplates on cue. 

The moment seemed to last forever. Prowl felt pinned by the Oracle’s gaze. Everything felt frozen, fragile as a fluorite crystal. And just like that it broke, a single word, a name, crossed the Oracle's lips. A name that resonated through Prowl’s spark shaking him to the core. 

Prowl rocked back, closing his chestplates. The Oracle moved on to Smokescreen, repeating the ritual, but Prowl hardly noticed. His entire processor was locked on one thing. The name the Spark Oracle read echoed through him again and again. He whispered the name to himself. It was not a Praxian name, he would not be easy to find. The only thing that mattered to Prowl was that he existed, that he was real, and that Prowl wasn’t destined to be alone forever. He repeated the name again, just to feel it on his glossa, to hear it resonating with his spark. “Jazz.”


End file.
